Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage's Book - Chapter 7

As they escaped the chaos and reached the wide, open street, Binaeril felt the tension release. He struggled to steady his trembling legs. His legs were shaking, his eyelids felt heavy, and his whole body seemed to creak. In short, he was in no condition to attend class. Realizing he was already late and couldn’t avoid being tardy, he decided to take the day off and rest.

-You’ve shown them, they won’t mess with you again.

“Is that even a question…?”

Binaeril, who had instinctively responded to Veritas, glanced at Rike beside him and continued the conversation silently.

‘Is that even a question?’

Gillian had flown at least a meter and crashed onto the ground. It was a miracle if he hadn’t broken something. If Gillian was seriously injured, that would be a problem too. Given Gillian’s personality, he wouldn’t keep quiet. He’d likely make a huge fuss and come after Binaeril with a vengeance.

-Are you worried about him now?

‘I’m not worried about him, I’m worried about my life.’

The thought of Gillian stirring up trouble everywhere made Binaeril feel a headache coming on.

-You’re too soft. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If you draw your sword, you should be prepared to use it.

‘What nonsense. It’s just a kids’ fight.’

-Creating a reasonable amount of fear is a good survival strategy.

Veritas was not someone you could have a rational conversation with.

“Um….”

‘Oh, great, my luck….’

Lost in thought, Binaeril didn’t hear Rike’s first call. She called him louder this time.

“It hurts.”

Rike pointed to her wrist. In the rush to escape, Binaeril had grabbed her wrist tightly and was still holding it.

“Oh, sorry. I was just lost in thought.”

He let go of her wrist and noticed the red marks around it like a bracelet.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Rike shook her head.

“I’m fine. But how did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know, you just….”

Rike searched for the right words.

“…sent him flying.”

“That, well? He just flew off on his own, screaming.”

It was an absurd lie. Binaeril mimicked Gillian’s flailing for emphasis.

Of course, Rike didn’t buy it.

“Did you use strength?”

“No, could I even do that?”

Only the warriors of Barbaroana, born with immense strength, could throw people barehanded. Trying to smooth over the situation with an awkward laugh, Binaeril found no better excuse.

“Did you use magic?”

“Huh?”

“Was it magic?”

“No, no. I didn’t even chant.”

Truthfully, Binaeril himself wasn’t sure how it happened, but he suspected it was magic. Seeing Rike’s puzzled look, Binaeril started to sweat. He desperately wanted to leave.

“Rike!”

Another girl called out from a distance, running toward them.

“Oh, looks like your friend is here. Well, I’ll be off then!”

Seizing the opportunity, Binaeril quickly bid farewell and dashed off to his dormitory.

“Sylvia.”

“You said you were on your way, but I’ve been looking all over for you. Oh no, your wrist! Are you hurt?”

Sylvia grabbed Rike’s reddened wrist and fussed over it.

“Who did this? Was it that guy who just ran off? Him? I’ll get him!”

“Sylvia… it hurts. Let go. And he was the one who helped me.”

“Helped you? How?”

Rike briefly explained what had happened, leaving out the names of those involved.

“Someone pushed you? Who? Who would do that?”

“…I’m not telling you.”

Rike knew that telling Sylvia would only escalate the situation. Seeing Rike pout like a scolded puppy, Sylvia decided to drop it.

“But, Sylvia.”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever heard of a mage using magic without any incantation?”

Rike had clearly seen it. She had seen the powerful wave of magic emanating from Binaeril’s awkwardly outstretched hand. Others might be fooled, but she couldn’t be. She had the unique ability to see magic directly with her eyes, an ability her mentor referred to as the “Magic Eye.”

“That’s something you only hear in children’s songs, isn’t it?”

“You think so too?”

Rike fell silent for a moment. Could she have seen it wrong? She recalled the boy who had held her wrist. Despite the red marks, her eyes saw something else—the distinct trace of magic. Her eyes had never been wrong.

With a resolved expression, she spoke up.

“Sylvia, could you contact the professor? I have something to ask.”

Sylvia was a bit taken aback. The curious look on Rike’s face was rare for the usually timid girl. The professor she referred to was her advisor, one of the senior professors of the Mage Tower, revered almost as much as a sage.

“…Yes. Of course, Lady Rike.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry. Rike.”

Meanwhile, Binaeril had returned to his room and collapsed onto his bed. The soft sheets felt wonderfully soothing against his skin. He almost fell asleep but knew he couldn’t yet. There were still questions that needed answers.

“What was that earlier?”

-What do you mean?

“Don’t play dumb. That magic. Was that your doing?”

-Ah.

Veritas hesitated. Whenever it did, Binaeril felt an urge to grab the old book and crumple it.

“Haaa.”

He reached out with superhuman patience, but the muscle aches made him withdraw his hand. The old book, lying just out of reach, made a strange sound as if mocking him.

-I don’t know. What was it?

“Don’t lie. I’ve seen something like this before.”

Binaeril thought back to the hidden corridor of the Grand Library, to the events that had transpired there. Magic that flew without incantation, shared senses, and mysteriously appeared and disappeared. There was only one being capable of such feats—the book fluttering before him.

-You’re mistaken. What I showed you wasn’t magic.

“I’m not asking if it was magic. I’m asking if it was your doing.”

-Hmm, maybe.

The book floated in circles, occasionally emitting a leathery scent, taunting him.

-How did you do it? Think back.

“How did I do it? I didn’t do anything. I just thought about how I might respond with magic.”

-And then?

“I thought of the method. As soon as I did, it felt like the magic within me moved accordingly.”

-So?

“I naturally opened my palm to let it flow…”

-And then you sent Gillian Bemes flying.

Veritas was right.

-From the process you described, where could I have possibly intervened?

He was right about that, too.

“So, was that magic?”

Veritas’s spine wiggled, a gesture Binaeril knew was equivalent to a nod.

-Binaeril, what is magic?

It was a question Binaeril had heard before.

“Magic is the belief that turns imagination into reality.”

Binaeril recalled the answer.

-That’s correct. So if you remember that, you should understand why the magic activated.

Binaeril thought back to the moment he sent Gillian flying. The right imagination for the situation, enough willpower to realize it, and belief. But there was one crucial thing missing.

“But I didn’t chant any spell.”

-Who said chanting is necessary?

“So you’re saying I used magic without any incantation? Aren’t spells essential for magic?”

“Then why did the Mage Tower create so many incantations? Why can’t other people use magic without them?”

-They’re just safeguards. Think of them as final approval mechanisms for casting magic.

-And who says there aren’t any mages who can cast magic without chanting?

Binaeril lay on his back, examining his hand. It still felt warm. Even if he tried again, he had no idea how to replicate it. If Veritas was right, did that mean he was a person without that safeguard?

Thinking it over, Binaeril realized this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

“Veritas, wait. Does that mean that if I just imagine things, magic could be cast wildly?”

-It’s possible. If you can’t control your imagination and willpower.

Binaeril felt a shiver run down his spine. It was like holding a sword that swung unpredictably.

“But… why am I so… tired…?”

Binaeril could barely keep his eyes open. He couldn’t resist the overwhelming sleepiness any longer. As he drifted off, Veritas’s words came to him faintly.

-That’s the price. Your body can’t fully control that power yet. Really, you figured out a method without being taught?

Binaeril couldn’t fully grasp Veritas’s words as he sank into a deep sleep.

***

In a room with an elegant nameplate on the upper floors of the research wing, an elderly gentleman with white hair was organizing documents. He was one of the deans of Elfenbine and the oldest mage among the current faculty. Unlike warriors who lose their prime with age, a mage’s skill is often said to correlate with the years they have lived. Professor Angelo Yulio was living proof of that saying.

Knock, knock.

The old mage couldn’t hide his delight at the unexpected visitor.

“Hello, my student?”

“Hello, Master.”

The visitor was his only pupil.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in the lab. I wish you would visit this old man in his little room more often.”

“Please don’t say that. You are still going strong.”

The old mage with white hair and the young mage with short blonde hair exchanged a pleased smile.

“Indeed. I am in good health. I have no plans to retire until the golden brooch is pinned on the princess’s chest.”

The golden brooch was the symbol of a certified mage who had passed the Scala exams. His words reflected either his sense of responsibility toward his late-in-life student or his loyal resolve to support the princess as long as he could.

Rike decided to think it was the former.

“Please, lower your words. Outside the palace, I’m just a student.”

“I use respectful language for all students, not just you, Princess.”

“With you treating me so grandly, how can I visit more often?”

“Oh dear, my apologies.”

Professor Yulio raised his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m sorry. So, what brings you to this humble place?”

“If the dean’s office at Elfenbine is humble, the royal palaces back home must be considered impoverished. I came today with a question.”

Professor Yulio adjusted his monocle, which had slipped down.

Rike was someone who clearly distinguished between public and private matters. She avoided meeting with her mentor unless absolutely necessary. Given her position, this was understandable, but it sometimes made Professor Yulio feel a bit disappointed. For her to bring herself all the way to the top of the research wing for a question? It had to be something serious.

“I know this question might sound foolish, but… um…”

“Student Rike, don’t worry. Ask freely.”

“What are the essential elements of magic?”

It was a very basic question. Even so, Professor Yulio answered kindly.

“Imagination to conceive the magic, willpower to realize it, and an incantation as a medium for the mana.”

“If even one of these is missing, does the magic not work?”

“Of course. Without imagination, it doesn’t exist in the first place. Without willpower, it remains a fantasy. Without the incantation to manifest it, it remains an illusion.”

This was fundamental knowledge taught during junior years. Professor Yulio thought his brilliant student wouldn’t have come all this way just to ask this.

 

“What exactly are you curious about?”

Rike hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether her question was too naive.

“Master, do you know of any mage who can cast magic without an incantation?”